


We'll Be Late

by stringsofwords09



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Love, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stringsofwords09/pseuds/stringsofwords09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the pair finds themselves in a compromising position...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Be Late

**Author's Note:**

> the prompts:  
> “I would love to see a short fanfic of Bash’s reaction after Mary tells him that she went all the way with Francis”  
> +  
> “Could you do a cute little oneshot where like bash and Mary are how they are right now (engaged and all) and like he walks in on her changing?”
> 
> I went ahead and combined these two, but I flipped the second prompt. I hope that’s ok. It’s more fun this way.

\--

Mary Stuart, the Queen of Scotland, with a rightful claim to England, and a future Queen of France to boot, stood outside her betrothed’s chambers, holding his breakfast tray. His heavy, over-laden breakfast tray, that is. Packed with so much food, it was most certainly a miracle that Bash wasn’t overweight. 

_Does he eat all of this, every single morning?_ She wondered, struggling to keep a steady grip. 

“Sebastian!” she called impatiently, “can I _please_ come in already?” 

Mary clenched her teeth, hearing stumbling noises from inside the room, and then a very loud “Ow!” from Bash. What was he doing, rearranging the furniture? She opened her mouth, to tell him precisely what she thought of his tardiness, when the door whirled open, and the former bastard poked his head out. His hair was effortlessly rumpled, his shirt untucked, and untied. He had a boot tucked under one arm, and the other still on his foot. 

“Good morning, Mary,” he said graciously, waving her inside. “Sorry. Stubbed my toe. I was in middle of changing out of these dirty clothes.” He smiled widely at her. “I didn’t know your duties included room service. I’m charmed that my future wife dotes on me so.” 

She ignored his cheek, and inspected him carefully. He was wearing new, fitted clothing, custom made as ordered by Diane since the legitimization began. A crisp white shirt, with a sleek leather jacket, and… were those riding boots? 

“Is this why you skipped breakfast?” she asked crossly, handing him his tray. She followed him farther into his room, hands on her hips, as he began to eagerly scarf down his meal. “You went _riding?_ On your own?” 

He answered her between bites, and Mary was secretly impressed with his ability to speak articulately with a full mouth. “Oh, yes! But not alone. I took Alec, and a few other men. Left before sunrise, and we got back – wow! They have _outdone_ themselves in the kitchens lately. I’m starving.” He bit off a chunk of bread, and looked up at her. 

“What was I saying?” 

Mary sighed. “You have a few affairs to take care of in the throne room today, Bash...” 

He sighed, and stood abruptly to brush off some crumbs from his lap. The tray bobbed gently on the bed from the sudden change in weight. “I’ll change now,” he said, “I should look presentable. If I’m to stand next to you.” He smiled lightly at her, but she sensed a twinge of fear on his face. Mary’s annoyance dissolved instantly. She knew Bash was dreading going into that room and putting on a show. But he was sincere in his attempt to act the part. 

She took a step to slip her hand onto his shoulder. “Bash, you’ll do splendidly. I have faith in you.” He took her hand into his own, and nodded. She was bossy, and always keeping him on point, but she truly believed in him. “I trust you, Mary.” 

Her palm felt at ease in his. They stood there together; suddenly both quiet, appreciating the mutual comfort. Mary was sure that if she blinked, the moment would pass. And sure enough, the footsteps of a guard in a far off hallway broke up their shared moment. Bash dropped her hand and stepped away toward his bed. 

“Do you mind stepping outside?” 

She frowned, thrown off. He was kicking her out? “I beg your pardon?” 

He grinned at her. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready to undress in front of a queen.” 

Mary turned crimson. “Oh! Yes. Of course.” She hurried to the door, hiding her embarrassment by turning her face. “I’ll… I’ll just be out here, then. Call when you’re ready.” 

She barely closed the door behind her, when Mary remembered who would be waiting in the throne room... Bash would need his father’s seal. She pushed the door open again, and froze in place, finding herself nearly encased in Bash’s arms. He was holding his boots, and he was extremely bare-chested. 

“Aha,” she whispered, unable to shift her gaze. 

“Hello,” he said kindly. “Well, here we are, again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to – I mean, I didn’t realize that you –” 

“Could undress so quickly?” He shrugged, but didn’t move away from her. “I have many talents. Did you leave something behind?” 

She wished she had. Mary forgot why she came back inside in the first place. “No…” 

“Well, I’m glad you came back inside,” he told her, boldly. Mary raised her eyebrows; brash as Sebastian usually acted, lately he was more reserved in his fondness for her. “Oh?” she asked shyly. 

Bash put his boots down beside him, and pushed the door behind her closed. And then with one motion, pulled her closer to him, their foreheads touching. His face still had a taste of the outdoors, and he smelled like grass. Her hands rested comfortably on his chest, he held on to her elbows. 

“Hi,” she said. 

“Hi,” he said back. 

Mary tilted her face down, but he caught her chin with his fingertips, to bring it back up. Tufts of his hair tickled her face. She reached up to bat it away, but didn’t remove her hand. Instead, she ran her fingers through his disheveled locks, smiling at how they jutted straight up into the air. She held his face. 

And _finally,_ for once, Bash leaned in to kiss her first. It was light, and he tasted like salt. His hands curled into her back, and she pressed herself closer, her fingers to his neck. She felt his throat hum, and kissed him back. He was so warm, and she found herself tracing down to his biceps. He took that as a signal, and wrapped his arms snugly around her waist. 

They stumbled around his room, in this tight embrace, their lips pressed so firmly to one another, Mary forgot to breathe. His hands began to roam, from the tips of her shoulders to the curve of her waist, and back up to her face. “Bash,” she sighed drawing a breath. 

“Do you want me to stop?” he gasped, his forehead to hers again. And she hesitated, for just a second, but it was enough for Bash to sense something was wrong. 

“Maybe we’re rushing this. I’m sorry.” He let go of her, and backed up a step. Mary immediately missed his touch. Her arms felt chilled. Did he look hurt? 

“I’m sorry,” he told her again. “You’re a queen. I’m an idiot.” He took more steps away, as if to cool himself down. Mary still felt the rush in her lungs. “I’m a girl, Bash,” she said softly. She padded over to him. “Please don’t apologize, it wasn’t one sided.” 

“Some would say I was taking advantage, of a girl who doesn’t know better, asserting myself because of my title.” He looked at her, guilt written out in the lines of his furrowed brow. He tossed away the covers on his bed, in search of his shirt. He found it, and yanked it over his head. It mussed up his hair even more, and she didn’t think he could look more handsome. 

“I’ve been with Francis,” Mary blurted out. She hadn’t told anyone this yet. How would he take it? He turned back slowly to face her, and she watched him closely. But he betrayed no sense of disappointment, or even anger. Instead, he looked surprised, and his expression was gentle. “You didn’t have to tell me that, Mary.” 

“We are going to be married, Bash,” she said, shrugging. There was a weight lifted off her shoulders now. How long had she kept that secret? Too long. “We’ll be husband and wife. Should there be secrets between us? You should be informed, before you are bound to me, with no turning back.” 

“What I meant,” he said, stepping forward , “is that I don’t hold you to a higher standard than myself.” 

“What?” 

Bash stood in front of her, and pulled lightly at the ends of her hair. “A woman’s virtue does not define her, that’s what. Maybe it matters, to others here at court, but my mother raised me differently. Find me any man in this castle who was never with a woman before his wedding.” She smiled at that, and he took both of her hands in his. He kissed her fingers. “If you’ve slept with Francis, or even the entire guard, it won’t change how I feel about you.” 

“I have not been with – ” she began, only to be cut off by a finger to her lips, and he softly kissed her forehead. He drew his head back and laughed. “That was a joke, Mary.” 

“Do you really mean all of this?” she questioned him seriously. 

“Some say I have a bad reputation, as well,” he countered. 

“Really? I doubt that, Bash, you’re too gentle and – ” but he cut her off again, this time grabbing her to him so their noses touched. He slid his bottom lip over the top of her mouth, tasting the skin. She shivered. 

“Do you want to finish that sentence? I’d like to prove you wrong.” His hands began to dip dangerously low. Mary shook her head, and she knew she didn’t want him to stop. He maneuvered her around the room, and paused by a short cabinet. She felt his lips slide into a smile against hers. The mischief danced in his eyes. What was he planning…? 

“Don’t move,” he whispered softly. 

She shuddered as he boldly slid his palms down her back, and gripped her tightly by the waist. She yelled out in surprise, as he suddenly lifted her in the air. He laughed out loud, and set her down firmly on the dresser. 

“Wha- What are you doing?” she asked timidly. 

“Did I frighten you?” he asked, grinning ear to ear. They were at eye level now. She blushed, and nodded, feeling goose-bumps as he went ahead and spread apart her thighs to stand between her legs. Her dress rode up to her knees, and his hands floated along the hems of her skirts. Their faces were mere inches apart. 

“Hi,” he said. And then, his face was to her cheek, the cold touch of his nose at her neck. 

“We’ll be…late,” Mary whispered, in a half hearted attempt to stop. He ignored her. Her heart was pounding, she was sure the entire castle could hear. He tracked his lips down her neck to her collarbone, and she heard a moan reverberate in her throat. Bash’s mouth found hers again, and she kissed him back eagerly. 

Bash’s grip tightened in response. Mary pulled him in closer by his neck, her legs pressing against the sides of his hips. She slid her hands to his waist, skimming the edges of his pants, and she felt him sharply inhale. He kissed her fiercely now, and his thumbs skirted over the curves of her chest. His fingers reached over to the back of her corset, expertly loosening the strings. He pulled his face away from hers, and looked at her. His eyes asked for permission. So she gave it. 

Someone, somewhere, was absolutely correct in assuming Bash had all the passion from Henry’s children. She felt weightless as he carried her to his bed. She hung on tightly, and he slowly eased himself on top of her. Mary wished to feel his skin against hers, and Bash didn’t fight back when she loosened the ties to his shirt. “Why did you put this back on?” she asked, annoyed. 

Bash laughed at her, and pulled it off. Soon her gowns were tossed aside, and they were firmly under the covers. Bash’s hands roamed, taking in every area of her, circling patterns in the skin, kissing every spot he touched. He cupped her breast, and she gripped his hair to pull him closer. 

“You’re still sure of this?” he murmured into her ear. She didn’t answer, choosing to press her hips against him in encouragement. His hands trailed down past her waist, pressing into her thighs, and finally guided his fingers inside. She moaned loudly, and he accepted this as a good sign. 

“Please,” she begged him, again and again, breathing sharply with every stroke. When he stopped, she reached down in frustration, and pulled him inside. “Mary,” he swore, but he let her continue, until he penetrated through the moisture. Her legs wrapped around him, and while uncertain at first, they soon moved to a mind numbing rhythm. The sensation was only sharpened by Mary’s timely gasps. 

And when it was all over, after he cried out curses to the gods and Mary was sure she could go on no longer, they broke apart, both winded and dumbfounded with their shared moment. Bash looked so different now, not a frightened bastard, but a fearless future king. He wrapped her in his arms, his warmth ever so comforting, and buried his head in her hair. “I like that you’re experienced,” he said matter of factly. 

Maybe that would have riled her up once before, but Mary just laughed instead. “We’re definitely very late,” she replied simply. 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> :P  
> happy valentine's day  
> also - you can find me at stringsofwords09.tumblr.com for any anger/sadness/prompt suggestions/feedback


End file.
